


I Don't Know What to Title (do people actually read the titles?)

by Tylerr_Br



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, How Do I Tag, M/M, My first fic, Peters identity isnt revealed, Quentin is alive, no schedule, probably soft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:13:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28051464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tylerr_Br/pseuds/Tylerr_Br
Summary: Canon Divergence (Peter's identity not revealed), Quentin is presumed dead and Peter Parker is settling back into normal life when he discovers something while on patrol.(My first fic so advice is accepted in comments :), I won't have an upload schedule and I'm still testing the ropes so bear with me, cheers)
Relationships: Quentin Beck & Peter Parker, Quentin Beck/Peter Parker
Comments: 5
Kudos: 11





	I Don't Know What to Title (do people actually read the titles?)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! As it said in the summary, this is my first actual fic! If you leave criticism please make sure it's constructive :), I have no plan for where this is going so if anyone has any suggestions, they're welcome
> 
> I often have this thing in my writing where everything happens kind of fast so this story may seem overly drawn out as I actually try to work on my pacing

2 months after everything in London went down, the world was trying to get back to normal and SHEILD attempting to cover their mistakes. Quentin Beck was dead. And Peter was still trying to comprehend what had happened and how. Sometimes thinking about the betrayal of trust and manipulation was just too hard and, in those situations, the only thing Peter could do was distract himself with work. Recently, his prime source of distractions was a local dealer of dangerous weapons and mechanical parts, they were hard to find and even harder to contact, driving around at night in a dark van through run down areas. It took hours of searching and interrogating for Peter to obtain some reliable intel, more specifically, where the van would be tonight.  
Checking one last time over the note he has on his desk for the time and place, Peter slipped on his mask and flung out the window, swinging between the towering New York buildings as the cold weather slowly approached, warning of the start of winter. After roughly half an hour of swinging, Peter had finally reached his destination, an old run-down building only accessible from the side in a dingy alleyway. The van was scheduled to arrive at 11:15 but when Peter had asked his suit for the time, he was met with a disappointing answer of “11:20”. Getting antsy he finally saw the black panelled van pull into the alley, headlights off. Letting out a sigh of relief he climbed down the side of the building and hid next to an old balcony for a better vantage point.  
A bulky man in a dark hoodie exited out the back of the van, followed by a slightly shorter but equally strong partner. They whispered something to each other, so quiet, even Peter couldn’t hear, then looked in the same direction, down to the back of the alley. Following their gaze Peter registered another figure, slightly taller than the other men and a slimmer build, but, from what Peter could see through the definition in the man’s hoodie, he was equally as strong, maybe more. The slimmer man approached the duo and held out a brown envelope, immediately snatched from him and opened by the larger man. A quick flick through the envelope revealed a large sum of money before it was tucked away into the man’s back pocket. He nods at the smaller man mumbling something similar to a “it’s here”, instinctively causing the smaller man to reach into the van and pull out a slightly larger envelope ad hand it to the second party. Speaking in a quiet voice, Peter asked, “hey Karen, what’s in that?” and after waiting a couple of moments for a scan to take place he was met with a response. “It appears to be some mechanical components which could potentially be used to build various high-tech devices such as a small yet powerful blaster or various projectors”. Peter nods in affirmation.  
“Thanks Karen.” …” Remember to save any footage of them for later” he added after a slight pause. A small beep confirming his request. A few seconds of silence pass when the two men suddenly jump back into their van and within seconds turn on the engine and start to drive off. “Um Karen...? How dangerous of a weapon could this guy build?”. “Based on the components, very, but it all depends on his skills and knowledge”. The question was left in the air, who should he follow? “If I follow the van then the guy could get away and do something really bad but… I’ve been trying to track them for over a week now… Wait! If I follow the guy, then I can stop him but also pressure him into giving me the van guys’ contact details!” He considered with a smile, only now realising the hooded figure had almost left the alley. And with that realisation he climbed back onto the roof of the building and watched the man slyly walk, or, well, walk with a slight limp, as Peter noticed, along the cold side streets. Adding mental notes of gait and proportions, Peter added, “how tall do you reckon this guy is?”, building onto his analysis when answered with roughly 6”.  
Following him back into a more populated area of Queens took longer than normally walking as the man’s limp slowed him as well as taking as many hidden side streets and alleys as he could. Swinging behind another balcony and watching as the man slowed next to an apartment building, slowly climbing up the fire escape, Peter assumed this was where he lived. “I’m going in for a closer look, tell me if there’s any cameras nearby”. One small camera in the (assumed) ‘bedroom’ and one facing into the hallway from the apartment door. “it’s safe to go in, Peter. I will warn you if I detect any unsuspected motion from within the apartment”. And with that he was off, jumping onto the side of the apartment building and sneakily making his way up, stopping under the balcony where the man stops. The man climbs into the slightly cracked window but before Peter can move to follow, Karen speaks up. “Peter. I am detecting some cloaked technology that I could not pick up before due to different proximity. It may be dangerous however it has advanced masking technology, so I am unable to tell you what it exactly is”. Advanced? Peter wondered; this man clearly has the ability to make dangerous weapons in this case. “I have to go in, if he’s able to programme advanced cloaking, he would know how to cause a lot of damage too”. Taking no time for Karen’s response, Peter clambered onto the balcony and crouched down, peering through the window, just above the sill. The package was settled down on a desk, covered with blueprints and various notes and equations. Peter couldn’t make out what any of it said so he turned his attention to the man before him, who had, by this point, made it to the end of the room, next to the door leading to what Peter assumed was the bedroom. “C’mon just take the hood down already” Peter exhaled, starting to bounce his leg in anticipation.

To get a better angle on what’s taking so long, Peter shifted to his left to realise that the man was on his phone, entering some kind of long password or code into it. After he clicked enter, Peter flinched as a small, maybe two fists big sized, drone decloaked right next to the strange figure. The drone didn’t look too advanced, Peter probably could make one in a few hours, however, the cloaking tech was extremely advanced, contrasting the frail device it was attached to. “He’s using it as a security camera” Peter mumbled as he noticed several recordings play out on the phone. Peter had several options. Shoot and take down the drone with webs and then trap the man; shoot the man first, ignoring any security measures the drone may have (based on the model Peter severely doubted that, though); or simply charge in. Unwilling to take the risk, Peter flung his webs straight into all 4 of the drone’s propellers, immediately dragging it down to the floor where it crashed, and one propeller snapped off. The man tensed. He wasn’t scared? No, that’s unlikely, maybe he was just used to surprise? That’s probably more likely. But before Peter could completely gather his thoughts, a bullet was sent inches past his face. He’d been so caught up in the meaning in the man’s reaction, he hadn’t noticed the gun pulled from his jean’s pocket. 

As if on muscle memory Peter sent web flinging at the barrel of the gun, clogging it. He sent another, more coordinated, shot at the man’s stronger leg, plastering against the wall behind. “Don’t try anything”, Peter said sternly, “or you won’t even have one good leg”. This drew a loud exhale from the man, a mixture of exhaustion and what seemed like maybe,, amusement? The man was wearing a black bandana covering most of his face and a pair of sunglasses. “What were you gonna do with those components?”. No response. Peter shot two more webs, pinning both of the man’s arms to the wall, outstretched. “I asked you a question”. The response he received was not at all what he was expecting. A low “you’re a lot meaner now, kid” muffled out through the mask. ‘Now’? This man knew him? Maybe he was someone Peter had put away before, or stopped them from stealing a bike, (that happens surprisingly a lot even though it is New York). “Do I,,, know you?” With increasing curiosity, not realising he was slowly stepping closer to the disguised man. “Aw, forget me already?” The man said in a faux sad tone. Was he mocking him? In this situation? The man was clearly at a disadvantage here, yet the smugness in his voice made Peter feel like he was the one stuck to a wall. A familiar feeling... He hadn’t felt like that since... No. Working was his distraction from _him_. “I’ll ask you one more time, Mr…” No response “fine. What were you going to do with those parts? And don’t act dumb, I’ve seen your cloaking device, I’ve seen what you’re capable of”. 

By this point, Peter was roughly 10 inches from the man now, trying to stare him down into submission, yet there the man stood (?), unwavering. “The blueprints are over there” he nods in the direction of the desk, “if you wanna go over and take a look,,” How dumb does this guy think Peter is? “Nice try, criminal, I’m not leaving your side until you tell me” He smirked under the mask, waiting for the stranger’s defences to crumble and give in to the questioning. It didn’t happen. The man stayed stable, intimidating almost. “Criminal, huh? You really don’t recognise me. I’m honestly hurt, kid. I would be exaggeratingly putting my hand over my heart, but you know” He shakes his hands slightly, still pinned back at the wrists. “And if you’re so eager to know, I’m building better drones. My cloaking tech comes naturally to me, but I used all the parts for that and didn’t have enough to make a better drone. The one you shot down was only temporary.” This job wasn’t a very good distraction for Peter. The drone, the man’s mannerisms, everything was too similar to _hi-_ “just gonna stare at me, there?” Flushing slightly under his mask, Peter realised he’d been leaning forward, and his face was on mere inches away from the stranger’s. If none of them were wearing masks, Peter swore he would have felt the man’s breath mingle with his own. “I- uh. Um- Sorry! I, you remind me of someone… Someone,,” Peter purses his lips and releases the tension from his shoulders he didn’t realise was there. “Someone bad. Who got, got what was coming to him” Leaning back so he was standing straight, Peter refreshed himself, tried to focus his mind. 

“Are you sure about that?” Peter could hear the grin. Why was this stranger acting like this? Picking and prying at Peter like he was a damaged drone. “ _wha-_ what is your problem?? I can get you arrested right now.” Flushing harder than he had earlier, he folds his arms, trying to protect himself. “Then why haven’t you?” The question struck Peter deep. Why hadn’t he? He’d caught a criminal. He just needs to call the police and he can go back to patrolling. Maybe it was the resemblance of the man. The cool persona, defined muscles, nonchalant responses and smugness. Peter should want to arrest him even more, get him out of his mind, but, now that he’s here, he can’t even bring himself to respond. “I asked you a question”. Peter could feel the eyes burning through the sunglasses straight into his soul at the mocking recount of his own words. With a long exhale Peter finally brings himself to speak. “I will. I just need you to give me the contact details for those men you met earlier”. Go with the plan. “I need to arrange a meeting so I can take them down”.

“Reasonable request… Except, don’t you think they’d question why I’m calling them with a kid’s voice? And why there won’t be anyone there when they go to the arranged meeting spot? You didn’t think this through too far did you, Pete?” _Pete._ That couldn’t be what he said, right? He had to be hearing things, this stranger couldn’t know his identity. He’ll just ignore it. That always works. “huh. Not even gonna question that? You know that I just said your secret identity Mr superhero”. It was real. Peter’s face paled under the mask and his thoughts scrambled. “Wh- I- how- w- what? H- how do you-“ This was embarrassing. He was supposed to be a strong hero but here he was, tripping on his words like a child caught with his hand on the cookie jar. _“There’s the Peter I know”_. Without thinking Peter hit the man hard across his face, earning a grunt as the head twisted sideways. “H-how do you know?” He hoped he sounded more serious than before. “Tell me or I’ll hit you harder next time” The threat carried no weight; Peter had hit him on impulse. 

“I’m surprised it’s taken you this long to realise, not like I’ve been subtle.” This was getting annoying now. Peter’s patience had run out. There was an obvious choice, but Peter couldn’t bring himself to consider it. Slight trembling in his hand as he subconsciously lifted it to the glasses’ frames. He needed to get control over his body. He slowly pulled away the sunglasses, dropping them immediately from the icey gaze that met his own. Those two glazed, crystal eyes unlike any other. Ice like yet able to burn through you. “B- Be-“ He was chocking up again, whole body seized. He could feel the tears beginning to form in the corners of his eyes. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Repeating those words over and over again in his head. He should’ve suspected this. But now he’s face to face, it’s so much harder than he ever could have imagined. The overwhelming sadness turns to anger as memories of everything Beck ever did to him come flowing back. And now he faked his own death? After doing that to Peter? The trembling was now immense, fuelled by sadness, adrenaline or rage, Peter couldn’t tell. All he knows was he was overwhelmed. “I-“. It was too much, and he finally gave in, swinging a hit to Beck’s jaw as hard as his shaking body could muster. “Ah- Fuck, kid!” he grunted. The tension and adrenaline remained. Using it, Peter pulled off the bandana, ignoring the now broken skin on his jaw and swung another hit. This time Beck didn’t respond, only let it happen. “Fair enough, kid” he muttered, spitting out a bit of blood. 

A thick tension clouded the whole room, it was almost suffocating. Peter couldn’t breathe. He pulled off his mask gasping for air only to then realise he’d been sobbing. “What the _fuck_ Beck??!? What’s your _fucking_ problem??” Tears rolling down his face and falling onto the hard wood floor. He would be embarrassed for Beck to see him like this, face red, eyes puffy, tears streaming across his cheeks, if his brain could actually process and comprehend what he was experiencing. “You- you manipulate and USE ME, th-then as soon as things don’t go your way, you make me think I _killed_ you??”. This was too much. He hadn’t had enough time to recover. He was too far gone to even think of what to do next, so, he did all his body would allow, and fell to his knees. “When will you stop lying…” He tried to yell at Beck, but it came out as more of a pathetic whimper. A plead, almost. Beck ripped his right arm away from the wall and reached it out to try and comfort Peter, only to have it battered away, full force. “Hey, kid, Pete, look, I’m sorry. It was the only thing I could do at the time.” There was genuine sympathy in his voice. Heh. _genuine_. When was Beck genuine? This was probably another elaborate trap or trick to fool Peter into being weak… But, if it was, it had clearly worked as he was sobbing on the solid floor of an apartment belonging to a man who had betrayed his trust. 

“Pete, look, kid, I’m being serious now. You got in my way. I had to deal with that, okay? You understand that. If you had just left me alone after Prague, then everything would be fine but you… You.. Meddled. To pick a word. And I am genuinely sorry now. It’s over. You can arrest me now if you want but just know, I am sorry about before,,, about Londo-“ Silenced by Peter hitting him weakly in the leg. Beck pulls his other arm away from the wall and uses it to pull the webbing from around his legs. He steps forward lightly, Peter doesn’t respond. “I’m sorry”. Beck put his hands on Peter’s shoulders but there’s no resistance this time. He looks small and frail like this. Just as innocent as when Beck first met him but… More damaged. He broke Peter. That was prominent. It was weird, Beck had no problem screwing people over and yet, seeing the aftermath before him, broken down in his apartment, he felt bad. Unusual. Beck moved his hands from Peter’s shoulders and slowly moved them down his back, holding him, and crouched down infront of him. Peter didn’t want to think about anything anymore, he just needed support so, when it was provided, he didn’t even think twice about leaning into Beck’s embrace. It was comforting but he couldn’t fully let his guard down. It was like being rescued from a river by a lion. A lion who likely got you stuck in the river in the first place. 

“I-“ Peter sniffled trying to force out words, “I wanna go home..” And with that Beck released his grasp and allowed Peter to stumble to his feet. Without turning back to face the man, Peter jumped out the window and with what little strength he had left, swung back to his own apartment. He didn’t time how long it took or the directions he went, he just went. Soon arriving back home and flung through the window, plummeting face down into his bed to process everything that just happened.


End file.
